


Hero's Journal

by AllysaurusRAWR



Series: It Isn't Enough [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:52:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllysaurusRAWR/pseuds/AllysaurusRAWR
Summary: Five years after the Fifth Blight, a journal is uncovered. Within the daisy brocade fabric lies the heart of Marguerite Amell, Hero of Ferelden. Her former lover Cullen gains ownership of the tome and begins reading it, reliving all of the most painful memories.How did it end for the Hero? The truth is in the pages.





	Hero's Journal

The waves off the coast of Kirkwall had started to soften as the days grew longer. A warm breeze wafting through the Knight-Commander's office confirmed Cullen's suspicions, Summer was coming. With the new thought came a scowl across his face. The last time he saw _her_ was around this time five years ago, a cry of utter heartbreak flashed in his mind. He began trying to organize the various memos and letters he had been tasked with; pushing the sound back with the rest of his repressed memories of that dark time. Alas, his document shuffling proved to be a futile distraction and he sat back with a dissatisfied _humph_.

 

“Cullen Rutherford! You fucking bastard!” Finley Hawke's voice echoed through the hallway, quickly closing in on his location. The sudden noise ruined any semblance of peace the afternoon previously held. _Maker, what had he done this time?_ Cullen rubbed his eyes, trying to recollect any recent offense against the Champion. The door to his office swung open with a loud _whoosh_ , sending papers flying all over the room. Finley Hawke stared daggers at him from her emerald feline eyes and closed the distance between them, slamming her rough hands on the heavy desk that separated them.

 

“Cullen Rutherford, you fucking bastard.” She wasn't yelling anymore. Instead, her voice was a low growl. Barely above a whisper but far more terrifying than her previous outburst. “How in the name of your precious Andraste could you do this?” There was a slight break in her voice as the Mage rummaged through her clothing for something. When she had found the item it was unceremoniously thrown at him. His arms flew up instinctively, this wasn't the first time Hawke had chucked something in his direction. With a small thud the parcel landed in front of him. Finley urged him to unpack it with an expectant glare. The knots were sloppy and he easily freed the small journal from its wrapping.

 

A surprised gasp escaped his mouth when he felt the rich brocade fabric. He remembered picking it out because of the design and color. Over a background of pale blue were chains of white daisies and green vines. One of his favorite things was the way she embroidered all of her clothes with little daisies. The blue matched Lake Calenhad, his lame effort to remind her of him. Time had slightly faded the journal but, she finally came back to him. _Marguerite_.

 

“How did you get this?” After their final meeting he assumed she had destroyed any tokens of affection between them. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. How he wished he had been stronger, for both of them back then. The look of anguish on her face as she took her leave haunted him still.

 

“I had the privilege of meeting King Alistair, Knight-Captain.” Under her sarcasm he could see her anger still simmering. “He still had some of my dear cousin's effects.” Her bony fingers traced over the delicate threads as her eyes searched for the words.

 

“Surely you remember Marguerite Amell? Since I'm her next-of-kin I got to keep all of her things. This proved to be the most interesting item in the lot.” Finely snatched it away and made a show of thumbing through the pages. “Poor girl was barely eighteen when the Fifth Blight started but she managed to save us all.” Again her voice cracked and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

 

“It's regrettable that had to be the outcome Hawke.” Emotional situations like this always made him uncomfortable. “Is there a reason you came here, cursing my name at the top of your lungs for the Maker to hear?” He felt his words coming out wrong, almost teasing. Cullen definitely did not want to vex an agitated Hawke. Her annoyance quickly cleared the tears as she yet again hurled the journal at him. To his advantage, she had terrible aim when extremely angry.

 

“She wrote to you, you know. I read it. The whole thing. You can see her soul laid bare on those pages Cullen. I've read how much she loved you and cruel you were. How you manage to live with yourself is amazing. Although I guess things haven't changed much have they? You still enjoy torturing little circle mages to feed your worthless ego." Before he could refute her accusations, Hawke gave his desk a strong shove and exited; making sure to slam the heavy wooden door behind her. He let out a deep breath and rolled his eyes. As far as his meetings with Hawke went, this wasn't the worst one.

* * *

 

The anticipation of reading the journal had teased him for the rest of the day. When he was able to retire it took all his willpower not to run to his quarters. Now that he was finally alone without distraction he could admire the journal. He used a whole month's wages to purchase the gift. Cullen knew how much Marguerite loved to read and figured she could use it to write her own stories. He didn't know it would end up being one of the only things she left behind. After washing his face he stripped down to his breeches and climbed into bed. Was he ready to find out what she really thought of him? He opened up to a random page and started to read. The entry was dated two weeks after she left with Duncan to join the Grey Wardens.

 

_Cullen,_

 

_I got a Mabari! Well, technically I have to wait for him to be fully healed but, then he'll be my very own war hound. I know how much you've always wanted one so I promise to share Barkspawn with you when I come back. You'll be such a great dog-trainer! You can use all your experience as a Templar to make him the best-behaved hound in all of Thedas, or at least Ferelden._

 

He could imagine having his own dog, and she was right. He'd be a good trainer. Cullen thought of him and Marguerite somewhere far away from the madness surrounding him now. Maybe a cabin by the coast. “Barkspawn, what a silly name for a Mabari.” He chuckled to himself.

 

 _Finding_ _Barkspawn was by far the best part of becoming a Grey Warden and has made it worth all this. We lost some good men in the process but I'm happy to be alive and now a full member of the order. The Grey Warden ritual is easier than passing a Harrowing. I would know, I've now done both and lived to fight another day. When Duncan told me Lyruim was involved I was scared they would send me back into the fade. Truthfully I'm not fully recovered from the last time I went in during my Harrowing._

 

He could feel his brow tighten as he frowned. The pit in his stomach grew more painful as he forced himself to continue reading.

 

_There was never a time I could tell you what happened. Everything with Jowan kept me from confessing to you back then, though truthfully that's not the only reason. I didn't want to know what you would think of me after I told you. When I went into the Fade, I come upon a Desire Demon. It had taken your form and promised me everything I ever wanted for us. A place far away from Kinloch Hold, where neither of us were under any obligations to anyone. Warm, sunlit days where we could be together with no worries. There's no shame in refusing the tempting offers of demons, that's the whole point of our ceremony. In none of the books I read did they talk about physical contact with them. After I refused it's offer, it put it's hands all over me Cullen. The things it told me were vile, it threatened to posses me and do things I cannot repeat here._

 

The admission caused him to take pause, putting the book away for a brief second to comprehend what he had read. A wretched demon had its hands on Marguerite, his little flower. He yet again felt helpless against what she had to endure. Even though he had been there during her ceremony, there was nothing that he could have done. To everyone else in the Chamber the mage is simply sleeping. The only cause for alarm is when the Harrowing fails and the apprentice becomes a demon. How could he have saved her from such a horrible thing? Her previous sentence rang in his head.

 

_I didn't want to know what you would think of me after I told you_

 

Of course he didn't think any differently of her. If anything, this strengthened his resolve to fight against the creatures of the Fade. Cullen wanted so badly to pull her into his arms and make the pain go away. Her slender frame always fit so perfectly against his solid muscular one. In his memory he could smell her, lavender and roses from the gardens. Cullen shook his head in an attempt to banish the thoughts. There was no use in drawing up all the moments of them together, it made his heart ache with regret. All he could do now was continue reading the entry.

 

_Don't worry though, I will never let myself be assaulted like that again. I believe being a Grey Warden is helping my awareness of the Fade and its blighted creatures. This brings me to my next and far scarier confession._

 

He wasn't sure he would be able to face any more tortures she had to take on during her life. What was scarier than being hurt by a demon in the Fade?

 

_Another Blight is coming, Duncan told me shortly after we left the tower. I've been contemplating the news ever since. It hasn't gotten easier with time but I'm slightly less fearful than when he told me. I'm trying to find a way to send word to you but so far there hasn't been anyone to take my message. Andraste I hope you will be safe until I can come for you._

 

Of course she would try everything to get the news of the Blight to him. She must have felt so proud to be the hero, saving her beloved from danger. It was just like one of her stories.

 

_Tonight is my first time in battle. A horde of Darkspawn have gathered by Ostagar and we're going to defeat it. It's a blessing that I don't have to be on the front lines, Duncan has given me another task. I'm going to light a beacon to notify the reserves when we're ready for them. Of course I have a partner to keep me safe but I don't have faith in his abilities. Alistair, that's his name, makes weird jokes and thinks he's charming. (You are by far more charming than he is.) The troops are gathering now and so I will take my leave. After tonight I will come back to you._

 

_Goodnight my love,_

_Marguerite_

 

He traced the delicate script of her signature over and over, trying to feel any bit closer to his former love. The pages full of her handwriting beckoned him to continue reading. Taking a moment to get more comfortable under the covers, he began to read again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a sample of Marguerite's handwriting:
> 
>  


End file.
